Searching For Treasure

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Searching For Treasure Page 9

by L. C. Davenport


  "I was not wagging my tongue!"

  "Sure."

  "Well, if all of you are finished having a laugh at my expense,”said Grace, as prim as any schoolmarm, "I think I will go wash up. I feel a little dusty."

  As if happy to fulfill a lady's needs, the Sky opened up and delivered the rain it had been promising all morning. Everyone made a dash for the castle, meeting up with Brett and Austin in the front entryway, complete with luggage.

  "You'll be hearing from our attorney, Mr. Gaston. There's no treasure here. We consider this false advertising,”sputtered Brett importantly. He cast a look at Austin to make sure he would back him up. Austin simply glared at Dana in silence. "Yes, well, we're leaving."

  "So what,”shrugged Rose heartlessly, "we'll all be leaving tomorrow morning anyway. I pity anyone who thought they were just going to waltz in here, find the treasure, if there is one, and waltz back out in a day or two. To me that's just simple-minded."

  Oscar pulled himself up to his full imposing height. "If you gentlemen feel the need to try to make trouble by claiming I promised something I couldn't deliver, you'll have a difficult time proving it."

  "That's right,”piped up Henry. "We all heard him say there were no guarantees."

  Brett looked again at Austin, who still hadn’t said a word. Clearly not liking the look on his face, Brett tried to hurry them out the door into the rain. "Yes, well, goodbye."

  Oscar heaved a sigh that seemed to come from his shoe soles. "Well, I can't say that I'm sorry to see them leave. Most unpleasant gentlemen."

  Henry went to close the door behind them. "Hell's bells and shotgun shells, will you look at that rain? Like pouring piss out of a boot."

  "I guess that limits our activities today to the inside of the castle,”Rose said.“Which reminds me, Oscar. The sight of Grace chasing chickens put it right out of our heads. Go ahead, Dana."

  "Oscar, you told me that when you bought the castle, it was being sold for taxes. But did you have the interior appraised?"

  "The interior? No. Why, it's just old furniture."

  Dana took him by the hand. "Not exactly. Come with me." She led him into the kitchen, the others following. She showed him the objects she had noticed that first night and what she thought they would be worth to collectors. "Even that Old Judge coffee jar,”she pointed it out sitting on top of the refrigerator, "has to be worth at least fifty bucks. You're just using it now to keep pennies in."

  Rose nudged her. "Tell him about the rug."

  "Upstairs you have what I believe to be a vintage Dubisson rug. If I'm right about the age, it could be worth twenty-five grand at the very least. Maybe more."

  Oscar seemed almost to sway in shock. His mouth opened and closed twice before he could find his voice at last. "For a rug?" he asked weakly.

  "For a Dubisson rug,”she corrected. "But don't take my word. As soon as you can, you need to have a reputable antiques appraiser take a look around."

  "Good heavens,”murmured a stunned Oscar. "Good heavens." Dana gently led him back out of the kitchen and settled him at the dining table. "Good heavens,”he said again.

  "Do you really think he can get that much for a rug?" Rose asked.

  "That's what they've been valued at. But the truth is any antique is only worth what someone will pay for it. Just because something appraises at twenty-five thousand, if you can't find someone to buy it at twenty-five thousand, then it's not worth that," Dana said.

  "That makes sense. And that can apply to a lot of stuff, cars, castles, and art. It's not worth a plug nickel if no one will give you a plug nickel for it," Rose said.

  "Uncle Oscar, what's wrong?" Josie rushed into the room, Noah following closely behind her.

  "He's alright,”Henry chuckled. "He's just had a bit of a shock."

  Getting a glimpse of flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes; Dana had a good idea that the pair had been participating in some old-fashioned spooning. She closed her eyes and prayerfully hoped that she and Jack were not serving as bad examples.

  As if thinking about him made him appear, Jack was there behind her. She jumped slightly. "Where have you been?"

  "Around." Dana lifted a brow at this, but she said nothing. "What did I miss?"

  "Which part, when Grace chased the chicken, when Austin made a pass, when Oscar found out he's surrounded by a fortune in collectables, when Brett and Austin left in a huff or when Noah and Josie slipped away for some teenage groping?"

  Predictably, Jack zeroed in on only one part of her sentence. "Wait a minute... Austin made a pass at you?"

  "Forget about it, he's gone now."

  "Where was I?"

  She couldn't resist. "Around."

  By this time Oscar had regained his composure. "If you ladies wouldn't mind, I'd like to take a look at that rug."

  Once again, Rose led the way to her bedroom. Jack hung back and pulled Dana towards him. "You know, I hear it is going to be a rainy afternoon. I might be in the mood for some teenage groping of my own."

  Dana allowed herself to be distracted. She wrapped her arms around his waist and looked up at him teasingly. "We are long past being teenagers, Jack."

  "Consider it my second childhood."

  "Hey, you guys,”called Noah. "Don't embarrass yourselves."

  With a quick kiss and a murmur, Jack pushed Dana up the stairs. Her stomach did a funny flip-flop at the implied promise.

  Rose pushed open the door to find Grace sitting on the floor with Mark. He was sitting cross-legged in front of her. She was holding his hand and frowning at a book in her lap. "According to the book, your life line is supposed to curve like this, so what is this line running up and down? And where the hell is your Mound of Venus? Your hands are flat."

  Mark seemed embarrassed to have been caught. "Um, hi, Grace asked me to help her out. She bought this book, you see-"

  Much excited about the very notion of valuable antiques, Oscar insisted that Dana should take a tour of the castle with him. Besides the things she had already seen, she pointed out a Boulle cabinet, a Sevres vase, and a 19th century saddle-seat Windsor chair. "There may be other things that I'm not seeing,”she warned. "You really need to contact an expert."

  They ended their tour back in the dining room, where they found that in the meantime lunch had been laid out with platters of sandwiches.

  "This is getting scary,”exclaimed Henry. "Where are you keeping her, Oscar? We were just down here and there wasn't a sign of anyone. Now we have sandwiches."

  "I need tell you, Oscar, you've got me scared to get on the scales when I get home,”Henry said cheerfully, patting his round belly. "You've been feeding us mighty well."

  Rose patted Henry's belly, too. "I like a man who looks well fed. Besides," said added, patting it again, "isn't this supposed to be good luck?"

  "That's Buddha,”Grace informed her.

  "Whatever," Rose replied.

  "Apparently,”Grace continued, ignoring the smitten looks being traded between Rose and Henry, "this is going to be a lazy afternoon. Tell us, Oscar, how did ladies spend their time when Raven Keep Castles was in its glory years?"

  "When they could get outside, they spent a lot of time in the garden. Otherwise they did a lot of crocheting, embroidering or reading."

  Grace was vastly disappointed. "How boring."

  "Too bad you don't have your kit with you, Dana,”chuckled Noah. "You could paint the ladies' faces."

  This caught Rose's attention. "What was that?"

  "Dana used to do face-painting at fairs and carnivals to make some extra money."

  "No fooling!" Josie jumped up and dashed from the room. Jack had the sinking feeling that his plans for the afternoon had just been ruined. In less than a minute she was back. "Here it is,”she said unnecessarily. "I got this for my birthday and have never used it." Still in the wrapper was a deluxe face-painting kit.

  Grace was hanging over Dana's shoulder looking at the box. "Oh, can you make me a daisy? That's my favorite flowe
r!"

  "Hey, this Harlequin mask looks pretty cool." Rose pulled Dana up out of her chair. "Come on ladies. Let's go have some girl time."

  Chapter 9

  "This doesn't look too bad,”said Rose, admiring Dana's handiwork in the mirror. "Not bad at all. You must have been a popular attraction at those carnivals."

  "I did all right," Dana said.

  "I only hope I can show it to Henry before it sweats off."

  The rain had fallen hard and fast and then moved out of the area quickly, leaving behind a heavy sultriness that pulled and dragged at them. Earlier, Josie had put a box fan in her window in a vain attempt to give them some relief. Grace fanned herself with a magazine. "I don't know how anyone can survive this heat wave,”Grace remarked crossly.

  Dana shrugged as she began a new design on Josie's face.

  Grace fanned harder. "I feel like I'm sitting in a swamp."

  "Well, you're not far from one. Just south of here is the largest area of forested wetlands in the country."

  Rose snorted. "I can't believe we're sitting around here talking about the weather and the local geography. Let's get to the good stuff." She settled herself on the bed and looked at Dana expectantly. "Let's talk about men."

  Dana, filling in a circle around Josie's eye, turned the tables neatly. "Sure, Rose, tell us all about Henry."

  Rose grinned in delight. "You hussy."

  Josie giggled. "I was just thinking this seemed like a sleepover, only during the day," Josie said.

  "I used to love those, only we called them pajama parties. They were fun. Why do women feel like they have to stop doing fun stuff when they stop being teenagers? Who says that grown-up women can't get together with their girlfriends, eat ice cream, play records and gossip about boys?" Rose asked.

  Dana shook her head. "No reason I can think of."

  "We do all kinds of stuff when we are younger just because it's fun. But then you hit twenty and suddenly it's not fun, it's immature. I've never understood that. I think that's why there are so many stressed out folks. They've forgotten how to play. They don't bother to do things like, like-"

  "Like chasing fireflies in the backyard,”offered Dana, her eyes smiling at a kindred spirit.

  "Or watching Saturday morning cartoons."

  "Or creating a masterpiece with crayons."

  "Or reading comic books."

  "Or playing in the sprinkler on a summer afternoon."

  Rose jumped up. "Sister!" she said with a hug. "Grace, we've got to get this girl in the club."

  "Hey, what about me?" Josie pouted prettily.

  "Sorry, hon. When you get old enough to realize how much fun it was to be your age, then give us a call."

  "Do you still do all that stuff?" Josie asked.

  "Sure,”admitted Dana. "I figure you only start to get old when you think you're too old to play with toys. Just last year, Jack bought me an Easy Bake Oven for Christmas."

  "Why?"

  "Because I never got one when I was a kid. I think I had more fun making those tiny little cakes and cookies now than I would have if I'd gotten it when I was ten." She didn't add that part of the fun had been Jack trying to help her and making a mess instead. They had laughed and chased each other trying to smear batter on their faces. Dana smiled at the memory.

  "Which brings me back to my original subject,”Rose interjected slyly. Dana cut her a glance, but said nothing. "Come on; don't give me that fish-eyed look. The best part of this weekend has been watching the two of you trying to figure out what the hell was going on."

  "Really?" She added the finishing touches to Josie's face. "Better than Henry?"

  "All right, all right, you'll show me yours if I show you mine, huh?"

  "Or we could both gang up on Josie and quiz her about Noah."

  The teenager blushed through her makeup. "Hey, I'm just sitting here minding my own business. Why are you picking on me?"

  Relentless, Rose continued. "I get the notion that this is all pretty new for you two."

  Dana sighed in exasperation. "Don't you ever give up?"

  "Nope."

  Dana laughed quietly. "Sometimes I wonder how new it actually is. I have a hunch it has been going on for a while and I just haven't bothered to notice."

  "On his part?"

  "No, on mine. It's really kind of confusing. If a few days ago, someone would have asked me if I loved Jack, I would have said sure and not thought anything about it. I mean, he's my best friend, of course I do. But now if someone was to ask me, I'd have to stop and think. Not because I don't, but now I don't know what I would mean by my answer. Does that make any sense?"

  Mulling over her comments, she didn't wait for an answer. "In a lot of ways, nothing has changed. Does that mean I've always been in love with Jack and I’m just now noticing? What kind of moron wouldn't notice a thing like that? Or does it mean I still just love Jack as a friend, only with the added element of physical attraction now suddenly there, between us?" She looked at her companions helplessly. "Do you understand? I heard a line in a movie once that said men and women couldn't be friends because sex always gets in the way."

  "When Harry Met Sally,”said Josie.

  "That's right. I've known Jack for almost twenty years and sex has not once been an issue. Not once. But, now, what if it messes everything up, what if it does get in the way? But as scared as I am that this is a mistake, I still have every intention of making it again. Do you see why I'm confused? I want it to mean more, and I know Jack expects it to mean more, but what if it doesn't? What if I'm ruining our relationship because suddenly I've got an itch only Jack can scratch?"

  Rose looked taken aback at the serious turn of the conversation. I guess I asked for it, she thought. Having no sage advice to offer at the moment, Rose awkwardly patted Dana on the shoulder. "I can't answer that for you. That's just something you'll have to figure out on your own. You and Jack."

  "Yeah, if we bothered to talk about it. Jack and I have never had a problem communicating, until lately. Half the time, I don't know what he means. And since this…this thing has happened, we seem to do everything but talk. We look at each other, we banter, we tease, we argue, we smile, we touch. But we don't talk."

  "You're forgetting how the movie ended." Noticeably silent throughout this discussion, Grace paused in her fanning for the first time. "Harry and Sally. They were friends. Then by the end of the movie, they fell in love."

  It wasn't long after this that Grace declared herself ready for a nap. Rose set off in search for Henry to show him her new face. With a shake of her head, Dana realized that Rose had successful avoided any talk about her own budding romance. Torn between wanting to look for Jack and wanting to be alone to think about Jack, she headed toward her room.

  She paused as she spied Jack sitting on the top of the stairs as if waiting for her. Or maybe he was just trying to catch a breeze. She sat down next to him. "Hey. You're looking pensive."

  To be honest, he had been brooding, which was not a natural state for Jack to find himself in. His conversation with Noah, his sudden inability to know what Dana was thinking, the casual way she had tossed off the fact that some other man had made a pass at her, and the unresisting way she had allowed herself to be led off by the other ladies, instead of spending time with him, had all contributed to a rather gloomy attitude.

  Jack studied her closely. The hair around her face was curling in the humidity, her face shining with sweat, her clothes hanging damply from her limbs. And there was a smudge of white paint across her cheek. Still he wanted her so much at that moment that he could barely breathe from it. But all he said was, "You're looking a little pensive yourself. The old ladies run you over the coals?"

  "Not really. But I've decided that I want to be Rose when I grow up."

  Jack wasn't listening. He seemed entranced by the drop of sweat that was snaking its way down her face. He watched as it paused on her chin then slowly resumed its slide down her throat to disappear into the v-ne
ckline of her shirt. He touched a finger to the spot where it had slid out of sight and then retraced its trail back along her neck and face to where the drop had began its journey.

  Despite the heat, Dana felt herself shiver. "Jack?"

  "Mmm?"

  "Do you want to go play?"

  Jack felt a strange, dangerous coldness grip him at her words. He smiled into her eyes, slowly, sensuously, as he picked up her hand. He held it sandwiched between his two much bigger ones. He held her hand up to his mouth and kissed the tips of each finger, softly, tenderly, never once looking away from her face. He held her hand up to his face and stroked it along his cheek. Dana felt herself getting lost in his eyes, consumed by the spell he was casting. "Is that what we're doing, Dana? Playing?"

  "It was just an expression."

  "Was it?"

  The tone of his question confused her. She tried to pull her hand away. He held it fast and kissed her palm. "What do you want, D?"

  "I want for us to go to my room."

  He kissed her fingers again. "A little hot for that, don't you think?"

  "So why are you trying to get me hotter?"

  "Is that what I'm doing?"

  With a surge of anger she realized that he was laughing at her. She jerked her hand away.

  "I'm just playing with you, D. Didn't you say you wanted to play?"

  Dana shot up off the stairs and stomped to her room. Jack beat her to the door, blocking her way. "Dana, wait."

  The air around Dana seemed to crackle from her anger. "I don't like this mood you're in, Jack."

  "Well, I'm sorry! I don't like it much either." He rubbed his hands through his hair, growling in frustration. "What do you want from me, Dana?"

  "Right now I want you to get out of my way."

  "Please, I'm being serious." He ducked his head, making her look at him. "What do you want from me?"

  He was serious. He was so serious it scared her. Her anger dissolved like a mist. The potential for saying the wrong thing hung like the Sword of Damocles over her head. She found herself stammering. "I-I want what I've always wanted. For you to be my friend."

 

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